


Come Pretty Late

by akh



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, post-ep fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 05:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11753430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akh/pseuds/akh
Summary: A short post-ep fic for "Go Ugly Early". Bernie's thoughts as she makes her way to Serena.





	Come Pretty Late

She wonders if this is how Serena felt, all those months ago, leaving her old life behind. There is a bittersweet longing for things she’s leaving behind: her children, of course, but Holby, too, and the trauma unit that is no more - a place where she learned how to be happy again. But above all, she feels an odd sense of lightness, unfamiliar yet exhilarating, the weight of her old life, the petty bureaucracy of the NHS, finally off her shoulders.

She will be back, of course, to tie things up before leaving for Sudan, and always to meet Charlotte and Cameron. But they, too, need their own space to grow. She sees that now, after trying too hard to keep Cam close - a misguided attempt to compensate for the years she has missed and can never have back. It is bittersweet, yes, but always more sweet than bitter, because her children are still here and they're growing into adults, and she will be there to see it - not every step of the way, not when they need to find their own place in the world, but always every step that matters.

***

She changes from the Eurostar to a local train in Paris, wonders briefly if they would have met here, by the Seine, if she hadn’t been a fool and fled to Kiev without accepting Serena’s offer to meet halfway. It’s a passing thought that she doesn’t want to linger on. There are too many ‘what ifs’ in her life as it is, of how life could have been if she had spent less time running away. What matters is that she's not running away now.

This time, she is following her heart instead of trying to outrun it. She will be with who she loves, and then she will go do what she loves until Serena is ready to fully love and be loved again.

Perhaps it won’t all be as simple and straight forward as it now seems, because life never is, but right now all that matters is that she is going to see Serena again. For a short while at least, their world will be small and simple, consisting only of the two of them.

***

The sun is already low, casting long shadows on the platform by the time the train pulls to a halt at her final destination. When Bernie steps out, hauling her old military duffel bag like a true soldier coming home - and it is home, because it’s Serena - she feels her remaining serenity, which had started to give way to butterflies somewhere after Lyon, evaporate into the humid heat of the Mediterranean evening.

She doesn’t know - is not sure if Serena has come to pick her up, knows there’s a bus that will take her to the village just the same, but she walks slowly and looks for her in every face she passes on her way through the platform anyway. It’s just a precaution, as she tells herself, not stalling, because she wouldn’t want to miss her if she has come.

As if she herself doesn’t stand out with her long legs and blonde hair, and a great, big bag on her shoulder.

Unsurprisingly, it is Serena who spots her first, and Bernie hears her before she sees her - a soft “Bernie” echoing from a quiet corner in the nearly empty station, most other passengers from the train having already made their way out to the street while she has taken her time.

“I almost thought you had changed your mind.”

There’s uncertainty in Serena’s eyes when Bernie spins around to find the source of the voice - a distance of a few feet and five, long months between them.

She has changed, Serena. Her hair is shorter, shot through with a beautiful shade of silvery gray, her cheeks a little more hollow than before, skin tanned and glowing from days in the sun, all of her somehow more fragile and yet stronger than Bernie has ever seen her.

She has changed, yes, but she also still looks every inch like the woman she loves.

Perhaps it would be possible to express it in words, but words have never been where Bernie excels, and so she walks up to Serena instead, letting her bag fall off her shoulder and land on the floor with a resounding “thud” as she scoops her in her arms and pulls her into a tight hug.

She wants to tell her she’s never going to leave, but knows it’s not what Serena wants or needs to hear now.

“I’m here now,” she whispers into her ear instead and feels Serena’s arms circle around her waist as they both cling to each other in a silent promise to find each other again.

When they pull apart, Serena smiles at last, something of the old twinkle in her eye as her gaze travels down Bernie's body.

“Alright, soldier,” she says briskly as Bernie bends down to pick up her bag. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
